


Earthly Delights

by ironiccowboykink



Category: Ava's Demon
Genre: Baby edging tbh, Bottom rights, Crying, Dick so good you drool, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Edging, Getting gud, Humiliation kink, I mean odin like just knees him a few times, It's basically ’gil is a bottom!’ the story, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, Light ball and cock torture, Love Drugs, M/M, Magic sex drugs, Multiple Orgasms, Nevy is a creeper, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Refractory Period who?, Rough Sex, Shame, Slight OOC, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Thanks Nevy, Verbal Humiliation, and cry, because this is a dream warped by nevy, cowgirl style, dont know her, it's a dream, really - Freeform, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-01 05:53:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18794302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironiccowboykink/pseuds/ironiccowboykink
Summary: He grips Gil, fingers digging into his thighs. “R-ready for round two?”Gil’s heart drops and soars. “R-round two?”Odin nods, and drags Gil closer. He grinds up against him, slow and devilish, before flipping Gil over to prop him up on his hands and knees. “Yeah.” He smirks, pressing his erection directly in the cleft of Gil’s ass. His eyes roll back and so does he, pressing against Odin’s shaft. If he thought the earlier pose was provocative…Before Gil can even say a word, Odin begins to thrust against him in earnest.“Oh, fuck!” He gasps, back arching as Odin cards a hand through his hair and grips it tight.“Y-yeah,” Odin says darkly. “That’s the plan.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my Tumblr: @gaygilodin. I wanna talk about these two gays

Gil heaves where he lays, fingers clenching and unclenching his worn shirt. His chest rises and falls quickly as he twitches in the throes of sleep, sweat beading on his temple. He’s dreaming, twitching and helpless.

He sees so much here... Wherever _here_ is. Lights, colors, other creatures like Nevy with too many arms and legs and— one that appears to be drinking heavily? He sees them giggle and titter and laugh, play in this garden that seems to stretch up and up and up into the sky. He sees Nevy in a clamshell, sees himself float in and out of existence while still observing the world the way one only can in a dream. He sees himself, laden with gold and translucent silks, and a waterless ocean. Coral grows as tall as trees, as big as mountains.

But what Gil really sees is _Odin._

By Titan, he looks _beautiful._ He rivals Nevy, even, and something squeezes his heart so terribly he almost chokes. Gil can’t take his eyes off the man. His dark hair frames his gorgeous face, and the silver of his crown glitters and makes him look ethereal in the starlight. And, Titan, his clothing; it’s regal and sharp, clinging almost sinfully to his body, adorned with ruffles and braids and even more silver. It’s like Odin was cut from obsidian. And his _eyes;_ the dark of his irises match his clothes, but the pink of his pupils seem to glow. He… he looks like a prince.

Odin is looking at him. Gil blinks sleepily awake, though he wasn’t even sure he was sleeping in the first place; Odin is propped up on his elbows while Gil lays flat on his back, and for a moment he flushes with embarrassment. Has Odin been waiting for him to wake up? That’s so sweet of him. 

He’s unsure as to why Odin is here. He’s doesn’t even know why he himself is here; this looks like a place Nevy might frequent. _Though,_ he thinks, curling his nose as he remembers the rapscallions fooling around so recklessly earlier, _perhaps not._

Gil swallows, but his mouth is dry. Odin is looking down at him with such a warm expression that a blush spreads, far too hot, across his face.

Confusion swims around inside his skull. Gil _hates_ Odin, doesn’t he? He turned him into a criminal. He got his medical license revoked. He sided with that witch, that demon, that strange little Ava Ire who killed so many people— he— he helped take everything away from Gil, so why...

So why is Odin the most beautiful person in the world right now?

The metal of Odin’s rings bite at Gil’s hands. He leans into the touch, smiling softly, heart seizing in his chest. His gaze flits from Odin’s eyes to his lips, and he imagines the noises Odin might make if he were to bite them. They’re perfect, dark and full, and blood pools rather low as Gil’s mind is suddenly full of vivid imagery of just what he’d like that mouth to do.

The way Odin is looking at him makes him feel beautiful.

Gil gasps. He knows he must look like a fool, already riled up and needy when Odin hasn’t even kissed him yet. He feels guilty, looking at the loving expression on Odin’s face, when all Gil wants is for him to— wants him to—

Gil is saved from his filthy admission by Odin chuckling softly. He hasn’t said anything yet, but Gil thinks he doesn’t need to. Everything Odin wants to say is in his eyes, and right now, they say that they love Gil. His heart melts, and he knows he’s making the same lovesick expression Odin is. The guilt and arousal stay, pulsing steadily in the back of his mind, and only grow when Odin tilts his head and kisses Gil softly. 

He fights to hold back a moan, the weight of Odin pressing up against his body intoxicating. Starlight bursts behind his eyelids; Odin smells like pine smoke and cool, moonlit nights. He tastes like berries, and Gil presses himself desperately up against his gently working mouth like a man who found an oasis in a desert. Gil’s hands card delicately through Odin’s hair, bumping up against his crown. But that doesn’t stop him from anchoring them against the nape of Odin’s neck, tugging slightly with a quiet sigh. Odin hisses, but doesn’t stop kissing him.

Gil decides to test his earlier theory and nips at Odin’s bottom lip. Odin groans into his mouth and it’s _magical,_ it’s fucking beautiful, and even more beautiful is the way Odin curls into Gil’s body, kissing him even harder in response. Gil feels electrified, feels arousal buzzing in the tips of his fingers and the top of his ears, and he finally, finally moans, nearly sobbing into Odin’s mouth as he shifts his hips to line up against his Prince.

He wants to pray to Titan for forgiveness. But the wicked smile Odin gives him, with puffy and spit-slick lips, wipes any guilt out of his mind. 

Gil keens as Odin moves to his neck. It feels so wrong to be doing this. But the way Odin kisses along his collarbone and bites into the chords of his neck makes the whole world fade out around them, and Gil clings closer, rolling his hips up against the knee that’s pressing steadily to his crotch. 

It’s not fair. Odin is still calm and composed while Gil is nearly writhing under his calm touch. Odin’s hands skirt down Gil’s chest, and he laughs softly into the nape of Gil’s neck. 

“What?” He pants.

“Y-your c-clothes,” he teases, pinching Gil’s nipple through the thin fabric. “did you wear this for m-me? So wh-whorish of you.” Odin’s voice drops to a whisper and he noses along Gil’s neck, accenting his words with harsh nips.

He blushes. A whore? How could he be— that’s completely inaccurate, and—

The way he swells underneath his thin, glittery pants says otherwise though.

His blush intensifies at the realization that he _likes_ Odin’s words. He turns his head away in shame, never stopping the roll of his hips. “Again,” he whispers quietly.

“Hmm?” Odin says. He’s moved down Gil’s chest to blow on the previously abused nipple, causing Gil to shudder helplessly. His mouth closes around it and the friction through the fabric makes Gil arch his back into the warm, devious mouth. Odin’s free hand pulls arrhythmic and harsh at Gil’s other nipple. His knee pulls closer to his crotch, so much so that it nearly hurts, and Gil is starting to feel horribly sweaty and trapped.

Gil chokes out, “Call me that name again.”

Odin hums thoughtfully. He gives Gil a harsh suck before pulling off, all teeth. “What? A-a whore? Or maybe, I sh-should call you my s-slut.”

An unearthly sound escapes Gil’s mouth. It sounds desperate and needy, and the embarrassment he feels from it goes straight down to his sex. Distressed that Odin just won’t _touch him,_ Gil works his hips against Odin’s knee, panting hot and heavy. “Fffffuuucckk,” he groans, eyes rolling back in his head as Odin just crushes his sex against the heavy weight of his body, biting down furiously on his nipples again. The pain rips up his spine, mingling with the pleasure. He can feel a wet spot form in his pants.

“W-wonder if I could make you come l-like th-this,” he murmurs, seemingly delighted in Gil’s suffering.

He sweats. How could Odin even think of such eternal torment? But— the idea of it all, of Odin tugging and twisting and biting and grinding against him until he spilled all over inside these stupidly ornate leggings nearly makes him finish right then and there. “Please,” Gil begs, but he doesn’t know what he’s begging for.

“Whore,” Odin whispers in his ear, adjusting Gil so both of their crotches are lined up perfectly with each other. Gil can feel the heavy swell of him, and widens his eyes. That’s— he’s big.

Odin leans forward, rolling his hips cursedly slow, the hand that’s not holding Gil’s leg up leans down to grip his shoulder tight. “Y-you like this, don’t y-you? A-all s-spread out for m-me, like the c-cockslut you a-are.” Filth pours from Odin’s lips, about how pretty he looked all desperate and wanting, how pretty he would look when Odin came all over his face. He would let Odin cum wherever he want, wouldn’t he? In his mouth— and here, Odin forces his thumb past the seam of Gil’s lips, and he sucks wholeheartedly. In his ass, and Odin accents this by grinding harder than before, making sparks fly behind Gil’s closed eyelids.

“Faster, please, go faster,” Gil begs, hands clutching desperately at the ground. Odin complies, making Gil bounce with the force of it. Gil moans, almost louder than Odin’s stream of abuse. “Fuck, yes, Odin, Titan you feel so good, please, please I want you, feels so good, so good, fuuuuuuuuck,” he keens, words slurring in his mouth. 

Odin chuckles darkly. He’s moving so fast now Gil could almost imagine the real thing, of Odin stuffed way up inside him, so big it makes him drool. Tears leak out of the corners of Gil’s eyes as he sobs, overwhelmed by the pleasure they’re both chasing. Odin leans down over him but never stops rolling, and the pressure is so intense Gil starts trying to wiggle away, unused to such extreme euphoria. It’s so good it hurts, and even better is Odin kissing him like he’s trying to eat him alive. It’s all teeth and tongue and raw sex.

Odin pulls away. Gil watches as a string of spit connects their lips together as they break apart. “C-come for me,” he demands, and Gil does so instantly. Odin’s hips keep working at Gil even as he splatters the crotch of his pants with his seed, never slowing down. In fact, his hips move faster, and Gil cries out, deliciously overstimulated.

“Fuck, please, mm— Odin I can’t, I can’t it’s too much, it’s—“ he breaks off into a near sob, another orgasm fast approaching. Odin thrusts more erratically with more force, and Gil hiccups nearly every time, little “Ah! Ah!”s escaping his mouth. He feels himself harden again, but he’s too out of his mind with pleasure to be surprised. 

The man above him stills, a low groan coming from his mouth. Gil, sweaty and exhausted, watches him through tired eyes. He’s still beautiful. His lips are being worried through his teeth, and Odin’s eyes blink slowly at him.

“Thank you, thank you,” he murmurs. He can’t think of anything to say. 

Odin grins. “Y-you’re wel _cum.”_

Gil scowls. Even after sex, he’s obnoxious. He opens his mouth the say something scathing but Odin’s grin gets horribly wider. He grips Gil, fingers digging into his thighs. “R-ready for round two?”

Gil’s heart drops and soars. “R-round two?”

Odin nods, and drags Gil closer. He grinds up against him, slow and devilish, before flipping Gil over to prop him up on his hands and knees. “Yeah.” He smirks, pressing his erection directly in the cleft of Gil’s ass. His eyes roll back and so does he, pressing against Odin’s shaft. If he thought the earlier pose was provocative…

Before Gil can even say a word, Odin begins to thrust against him in earnest.

“Oh, fuck!” He gasps, back arching as Odin cards a hand through his hair and grips it tight.

“Y-yeah,” Odin says darkly. “That’s the plan.”

—

Nevy watches Gil with hawkish eyes. Were Gil awake, even he would be perturbed by how she looked in the dark: eyes wide and glowing a bright, sickly green, pupils spinning slowly in the shape of a wicked star. She sits almost entirely still, except for the hand stroking Gil’s damp and sweaty hair. 

Her lips move, but there’s no sound. She’s smiling softly, satisfied with her work. “You’ll love him,” she murmurs. “love him like I did.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s everywhere but his aching cock, driving him mad with pleasure. Odin tugs his hair, bites his collarbone, twists his nipples, grinds up against his ass. He does everything but tug his pants down and work Gil over to completion. Instead he keeps him teetering on the edge of an orgasm, whimpering and helpless.

Odin is moving against him so fast Gil’s arms collapse. His previous release left him feeling weak, but this? This is torture. He’s practically being fucked, except Odin just won’t touch him. 

He’s everywhere but his aching cock, driving him mad with pleasure. Odin tugs his hair, bites his collarbone, twists his nipples, grinds up against his ass. He does everything but tug his pants down and work Gil over to completion. Instead he keeps him teetering on the edge of an orgasm, whimpering and helpless. 

He wants to feel Odin’s hands instead of imagining it. He thinks they’re probably calloused on the fingertips but soft around the palms. The scratch would probably feel amazing. Gil decides to do himself a favor and palm his shaft through his pants, grinding the heel of his palm against the head of his length. 

He bites his thumb to muffle his cries, but Odin pulls harder on his hair. “No.” He says sternly. “I want to h-hear you.”

Gil can’t deny him anything. He drools and whines, pants and moans to the open air.

“A-are you imagining t-that I’m really f-fucking you?” Odin nips at the shell of Gil’s ear. “I w-wanna press y-you down and t-take you right here. Bet you’d be so t-tight. Wanna f-feel you come on me. Make y-you scream.”

Gil sobs. He can’t help it; Odin is leaning over him, hips pumping like some sort of dog, bumping up against his testes and shaft. He grinds harder, frustrated that his own hand isn’t enough. The words make his asshole flex and squeeze, anticipating the delicious spread of Odin’s cock. 

“I-I’m going to come,” Odin says suddenly. “And when I-I do, y-you’re going to r-ride me.”

“Okay, sir,” he replies breathlessly, and Odin snarls in approval.

It takes one, two, three more thrusts for Odin to stop, and a muted heat floods the space where he rests. “B-bet you’ll feel s-so good on me,” he says absentmindedly, ripping Gil’s pants down. “S-squeeze me so t-tight.”

Gil can’t kick his pants off fast enough. Neither can Odin, it seems, because by the time he’s turned around, he’s already naked. Gil smiles. That’s cute. He crawls towards Odin, but with a wave of his hand he is stopped.

“I thought you wanted—“ he begins curiously.

“Prep first,” Odin replies curtly, procuring a mysterious bottle from his discarded clothes. He squirts the shimmering liquid out onto his fingers and beckons Gil close. “On y-your back.” 

Gil lays back excitedly. Odin’s fingers and long, and slender. His shaft twitches just once, Gil swallowing thickly at the sight. 

He’s barely laying flat before Odin is between his legs, one hand tenderly brushing down the inside of his thigh. They’re just how he thought they would be— the pads of his fingertips calloused and rough, but his palms are silky soft. His breath hitches as he watches the hand travel down, down, down, brushing briefly past his shaft (which has begun weeping, pre-cum dripping past the blue, swollen head), to press to his perineum. 

Odin looks to him for approval. 

”Please,” he breathes.

Smiling, Odin circles the puckered ring of his ass before instructing him gently to relax. ”A-and t-tell me if it hurts,” he adds, slowly pushing a finger in. Gil grits his teeth against the intrusion, trying to keep himself from wiggling. It’s a foreign feeling, but not a bad one; once Odin begins thrusting gently, his opinion of it begins to rise.

“L-look at you,” he murmurs. “It’s l-like you’re t-trying to s-suck me in.”

His eyes flutter closed as he immerses himself in the pleasure. “Only for you,” he murmurs, something sweet and warm pulsing in his chest. “‘M only for you.”

Were he looking, he would have seen the soft look on Odin’s face. “Of c-course,” he replies, and Gil feels the bump of another finger. “R-ready?”

“Y—“ 

Gil’s back arches as Odin pushes in straight to the knuckle, fingers brushing up against his prostate. He gasps loudly, sound lost in the vastness of this space. “Y-you’re so hot here,” his Prince murmurs, pumping so fast that Gil sobs. It’s so good, it feels like he’s on fire; he babbles praise and begs mindlessly for Odin to please just give it to him already, he wants him so bad, to please, _please—_

“A-are you imagining this is my c-cock?” Odin says, curling Gil over so his toes touch the sky. His fingers make Gil ache for more, and he longs to grind against those gorgeous fingers, legs shaking as his orgasm approaches. “I am.”

Gil tightens, heart fluttering rapidly in his chest at the words. Titan, yes, he is. 

Odin nods. His fingers pump and scissor inside him, dragging deliciously across his walls. “O-one more, t-then you’ll be r-ready.”

He nods mindlessly. The sight of Odin’s fingers disappearing inside his body has driven him near mad with pleasure, the sinful weep of his cock a sight too much to bear. “Jus’ do it now,” he begs, breaking off into a desperate moan at the third finger.

His Prince shakes his head no, though Gil can see the impatient look on his face. His own length is bobbing thick and heavy between his legs; Gil can only imagine how such a monster of a thing will feel inside of him. Drool pools in his mouth the more he thinks of it, and he realizes quite suddenly that he wants to figure out what Odin tastes like. On his knees, where he belongs. 

Odin pulls him closer and closer to orgasm, only to pull away like the tide. Gil sobs with it, begs him without words. And finally, finally, in a beautiful and tragic moment that leaves Gil feeling terribly empty, he slips his fingers out and begins pumping his cock, dragging pre-cum and excess lube all the way down.

He lays back. Gil can barely restrain himself; he launches at Odin, positioning himself directly above his dick. Odin laughs, and it’s a beautiful sound. “Excited?” He teases, and Gil flushes, but doesn’t deny. Carefully, as if Odin were spun of glass, he grips Odin to line himself up. The head bumps against his perineum, further down, further still, until he presses the head against his flexing asshole. 

“T-this okay?” Odin asks softly.

Gil nods, and in one swift motion, Odin thrusts up, and completely bottoms out.

His vision swims and sparks. A half sob, half gasp is torn from his mouth, and for a moment the two of them stay locked in position, low groans being wrenched from their throats. “F-fuck, you feel just as g-good as I imagined,” Odin hisses. “It’s l-like I’m f-fucking a wet fist.”

Gil moans, already beginning to lift his hips. Tears pour down his face as he fucks himself on Odin’s length, relishing in the tight grip Odin has on his hips. He knows it’ll bruise the next day. He _wants_ it to bruise the next day. He imagines the discoloring of his hips, and works himself even faster.

The sound of Odin’s moans hit his ears. He feels good hearing them, he feels good making Odin feel good. And he feels as if he’s being split apart; his prostate is being battered with every thrust, warm heat pooling rapidly in his stomach. “Touch me,” he whines, and Odin obliges, pumping Gil with delicious friction.

He rolls his hips, flushing as he catches the look on Odin’s face. He looks wrecked, wide-eyed and blushing, lips swollen and puffy from their earlier kisses. Gil decides he likes that look on Odin, decides to burn it into his memory for nights without him. He’s watching the space where he and Gil meet, watching Gil’s hole greedily swallow him up. There’s a smirk on his face, and were Gil not already blushing dark blue with sex and shame, he definitely would have then.

“So close,” he pants, breaking off into a desperate whine. “so close.”

The grip on his hips tighten, and Odin begins to meet him for every thrust, making Gil moan shrilly. It’s all too much, all too much; Odin’s hand on his cock, being fucked into oblivion, the burning stretch of Odin inside him— Gil shakes, feeling the cool that’s been knotting itself so long in his stomach snap. And just as Gil cries out to Odin that’s he’s coming,

Gil jolts awake.

Awake.

The word hits him like a ton of bricks.

He’s _awake._

“A-a dream?” He whispers hoarsely. His shirt and his skin stick to the cold floor with sweat. There’s an unholy wet patch in his pants, and he grimaces; it seems he did finish after all.

Nevy is nowhere to be seen, but he can hear her telltale laughter. He resolves quietly to tell her about the dream; and then, remembering what he had dreamt about, resolves to tell her about just _some_ of the dream.

He stands heavily, limbs still jittering with adrenaline. He has to wash this off before the others wake, he can't let them see—

”U-um, morning G-Gil.”

Freeze. Aggressive blush crawls down his hunched shoulders; his hands fly down to cover himself, knuckles whitening with the force of his grip. ”Good morning,” he squeaks.

And despite the shame he feels rushing through his body, it feels far too similar to the euphoric shame in his dream. He twitches idly in his pants and flushes harder. He can’t turn around. He won’t turn around. Not when Odin’s voice is hoarse and rough with sleep, not when his touch is still ghosting along Odin’s body, not when his humiliation is coming back to kick him in the ass full force.

“I, ah, um, i-is there some place I could, um, clean up? Maybe?” He asks meekly, still facing away from the group.

Maggie crows behind him, “You sound exactly like Odin, Gil!”

“I don’t s-sound like that,” Odin deadpans. “a-anyway, I think I s-saw one earlier. H-here, lemme t-take you t-there.”

His heart flips and for a moment, the stain in his pants is nearly forgotten. He nearly pads over to Odin like a puppy, heart on his sleeve. If he could get Odin alone, then…

A goofy smile splits his face without his permission. Fantasies play out in his mind of a continuation of his dream, of Gil on his knees, of Gil wrenching more of the beautiful sounds he heard last night out of Odin’s throat. 

Of him, pressing a gentle kiss to the insides of Odin’s thighs, moving closer and closer, teasing Odin and yet never quite coming him what he wants, until he’s begging and fisting his hair and just taking what he wants from Gil. Just using his mouth like the slut he is. He imagines Odin just sawing back and forth, crowding his mouth with the thickness of his length; he imagines the salty taste of his skin, the lewd sound of his gagging and swallowing when Odin presses Gil all the way to his pelvis, releasing in his mouth with no regard for how Gil feels about it. He imagines—

“Gil. Gil. Gil!” Odin snaps his fingers in front of his face, looking distinctly nervous. “Are y-you okay?”

“O-oh! Um, yes.” He nods sheepishly, wishing he had paid better attention. This would be the perfect opportunity to observe Odin’s body in the quietness of the wall, and devise a plan to tell him how he felt. But instead he got distracted with—

Well. Nothing that wasn’t worth being distracted by. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“I-I was t-telling you w-where to f-find everything,” he says amicably, though he’s still eyeing Gil like he’s going to lose his mind to the madness. Again. “a-and if you need m-me, j-just shout. N-not like there’s m-much room in here.” 

They share a small laugh, and for a heartbreaking moment, they part ways. “Thank you,” he says quietly, biting down on the urge to grab Odin and kiss him until he’s breathless. Or _worse:_ say he loves him.

He slips into the bathroom. Suddenly, he feels overwhelmed, and tears well up in his eyes. He feels empty without Odin, and confused around him. His feelings don’t make sense. _He_ doesn’t make sense. If Nevy were here, she’d explain it to him. But she seems to be avoiding him for now. 

Gil sighs and resigns himself to the tears, pressing against the wall before sinking to the floor.

He closes his eyes and dreams of Odin. The pain in his heart eases.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s it! The first story I’ve ever completed and it’s two chapters. I’m thinking of doing a slow burn text style with dumb romance drama and teenage shenanigans. Let me know what you think! It’ll be Ava/Odin and then Gil/Odin, probably. Or I might just make it a Gilodin slow burn. Who knows.


End file.
